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2 min read Feminine Leadership

The Sybian is for me. His release is for me too.

I don’t use my body to buy peace. I use my body to place him. And the machine? That’s just efficiency.

The Sybian is for me. His release is for me too.
Photo by Monika Kozub / Unsplash

I masturbate when and if I want.
No permission. No ceremony.
Preferably when he’s out with the kids.
That’s my space. That’s peace.

But the Sybian?
That’s different.

He bought it for me as a birthday gift.
Back then, he wasn’t a kept man.
He was a desperate man.
He thought the Sybian would give me release, pleasure, de-stress me…
and have me want to have sex with him again,
because I’d be reconnected to my orgasms.

Now we know it doesn’t work that way.

His way to sex wasn’t giving me a Sybian.
His way to sex was becoming quiet, attractive, tethered.
His way to sex was through me breaking him back in, taming him, placing him;
because now he’s the kind of man I want to sleep with.

And the Sybian?

It didn’t do what his intention was:

It forces power.

If a woman’s body can birth children,
it can birth an orgasm that detonates.
Because when sensation overwhelms, there is

Only presence.
Only surrender.

This machine does not hold back.
This machine does not ask.
This machine brings truth. 
This machine delivers tireless force;
without need or apology


Because he is a tethered man, attractive man, handsome man, I augment.
I augment, and often have him stand in front of me with his penis balls-deep in my throat,
because that is a signal to me.
The signal is: I own him completely.
But he also owns me.


And yes, I will pass the Sybian down.

Not today.
Not tomorrow.
But one day, when my eldest daughter is ready.
When I see she has stepped into her body as sovereign ground.

Because I know what I know.

Most men, especially young men, have no idea what they’re doing.
They fumble.
They guess.
They perform.
They think sex is friction.

I don’t want my daughter to have to wait decades to find her body.
I don’t want her to confuse sex with being wanted.

The Sybian is not a toy.
It’s not a joke.
It’s extreme.
It’s forceful.
It’s not “too much.”
It’s what a woman’s body can take.

It is a tool for wiring herself to herself.

That is how I will pass it down.

As lineage.
As sovereignty.
As love.


If you’re unfamiliar with the Sybian, you can learn more about it here.